


Where The Heart Is

by Sal (Cookie)



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-18
Updated: 2009-04-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:02:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8090329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie/pseuds/Sal
Summary: After the events in Home Fires, Reed and Tucker take some time out in Scotland





	

  
Author's notes: Written for Sue Christian to celebrate her Birthday. As to the geography - this area is my favourite place on Earth and if you get the chance, go visit!  


* * *

Humanity may have conquered space travel, Tucker thought ruefully, but travel delays on Earth were still nothing unusual. By the time their flight had arrived in Inverness, the sun was sinking into the sea and after the formalities of picking up the car, it was fully dark. Tucker had sensed his friend's disappointment, realising he had wanted Tucker to see the countryside they were travelling through. The roads had not altered significantly in almost a hundred years and Reed had driven confidently despite the almost pitch blackness outside, passing through the countryside, stopping briefly in Grantown-on-Spey's square to pick up some supplies before passing on down the wide main street and turning left out of the town. They sat in silence, the easy silence of good friends, tinged with the slightest frisson of expectation, of a friendship about to change forever. 

Reed signalled despite the empty road and turned right. The moon had risen and Tucker was aware of the hulk of the hills to his left, the ground falling away on the right and bottoming out. The window slid open and as he turned to Reed in surprise he saw the flash of the man's grin and heard him sniff the fresh air.

The scent of the heather filled the car and he breathed it in appreciatively before sneezing suddenly.

The low, liquid sound of a chuckle stirred his blood, before he was asked, "you're not going to tell me now that you suffer from an allergy, are you?"

"Nope," he responded, "but that air is powerful stuff."

"It is," Reed sounded pleased by his obvious approval - as if he had arranged it especially. "Not long now." 

True to his word, within ten minutes they were slowing down and turning left onto a rutted track, negotiating it carefully and in another few moments Tucker could see a dim light ahead.

"I have someone in Cromdale who comes out and checks the place once a week. I asked her if she would leave a light for us just in case."

Her? The brief spike of jealousy surprised him and he quashed it. That particular emotion had never been one he recognised as part of his character and he wondered at its appearance now. He glanced sideways at Reed's serious profile, and this time it was possessiveness that surprised him, some inner sense that was claiming Reed, that was saying 'this man is mine'. He drew in a shaky breath, hoping his friend would not pick up on his sudden discomfort.

Forlorn hope, of course, he realised as Reed asked suddenly, "Are you all right?"

"Sure," he put as much confidence into the response as he could, and reached out to press one knee in reassurance. 

A non-commital grunt greeted that, though one hand came off the wheel to pat his own briefly, an affectionate gesture that banished some of those new, darker emotions.

The car pulled into a small yard. "Welcome to Glenlochy Cottage."

They stepped out of the car and Tucker was struck by the quiet until his ear attuned to new sounds and he realised he could make out the sound of water running nearby and the gentle breeze moving the grass.

"Do you intend to stay out there all night, because I warn you, the midgies will eat you alive?"

"The what? Ow!" he suddenly realised that the tiny insect crawling on his skin could punch well above its weight and he grabbed his own bag and one of groceries before scuttling into the cottage, through the crowd of tiny gnats that had been attracted by the light. "Those are evil," he declared, as he waved them aside and made it into the relative security of the kitchen.

Reed shut the door quickly and activated a small device, "there we are, that should keep them out. We never have been able to get rid of the midges," he remarked, "but then again, it's the only thing that keeps down the number of tourists."

Tucker snorted in response before turning his attention to the cottage. It was definitely on the small side, he thought, but that made it cosy. The entire ground floor seemed to be one space, an open plan kitchen and lounge. On the surface it appeared old-fashioned but as he looked around he could see signs of modern fixtures and fittings mixed in with the more traditional. The embers of a small fire glowed in the hearth and Reed added a log to it, before unpacking the groceries, stowing them in the fridge. The domesticity of it made Tucker smile. Reed yawned suddenly before he spoke.

"There's a study upstairs and a bedroom with ensuite bath. I donâ€™t know about you, but I'm knackered.

Tucker agreed. The events of the previous night had drained them and he reached out to gently run a thumb across the bruising on Reed's face.

"I'm okay, Trip, really. Phlox gave me some of the good stuff - it doesnâ€™t hurt a bit." He leaned forward and planted a thorough kiss on Tucker's lips. "See."

"If I wasn't so damn tired, I'd make more of that," he threatened.  
Reed laughed and took him by the hand, leading him up the staircase in the corner of the kitchen.

 

***

It had been a long time since Tucker had slept all through the night. Nothing had disturbed him and he wondered if it had something to do with the warmth in the bed next to him, the slim form radiating both heat and a subtle reassurance. He stretched and smiled, sniffing the fresh air brought in by the breeze through the open window. Unable to resist, he slipped out of bed and padded across to get his first view of the Scottish landscape, sliding aside the screen that had protected them from the insect predators.

"Wow." He turned at the low chuckle. "It really is purple out there," he managed. He hadn't really believed his friend's lyrical description but the heather was in full bloom and he could honestly say that Reed had not over-estimated the beauty of the Scottish landscape. Yet not even that beauty could distract him from the sight of Malcolm Reed stretching and he experienced sudden desire. Turning his back on the hills, he slid back under the covers, moving across until he could pull Reed into his arms.

"Malcolm." It was all he could say, that quiet whisper of sound, and he allowed no response, covering Reed's mouth, hungry and insistent, so different from the almost chaste exchanges thus far. In a distant corner of his mind he registered a brief contact and then nothing.

Reed responded instantly, pulling Tucker on top of his body and wrapping him in a tight embrace as the passion that had been bubbling beneath the surface for four long years suddenly broke through all the obstructions, erupting like white hot lava.

***

When Tucker woke again the sun was high and he was alone. The slight disappointment faded quickly when he heard sounds of movement below and Reed's voice as the man sang - slightly off-key - some unknown song. The smell of something wonderful cooking set his stomach rumbling and he tumbled out of the bed.

In fifteen minutes he was showered, shaved, dressed and was clattering down the wooden stairs into the kitchen.

"Mornin." He called, and was delighted by the wide grin he received in response. He sauntered over and kissed Reed, careful of the frying pan and the cooking utensil the man was wielding.

"Mmm, very tasty," commented Reed. "There's a pot of coffee on the table, love."

Tucker was in a happy daze, slightly bamboozled by this relaxed, smiling individual. It had been so long since he had seen Reed smile like that, he realised. He was surprised by the easy endearment - as if Reed had used it with him so many times, by the utter familiarity of such a simple start to their day, when it was something they had never shared in this way.

His happy daze lasted until the loaded plate was placed in front of him and he gazed at its contents with deep suspicion. "What is this?" He wanted to know, prodding the items he did not recognise - a square piece of something that looked suspiciously like a failed attempt by chef at meatloaf, and a pale triangle he couldn't possibly identify.

Reed was openly laughing at him - and Tucker didn't mind at all. "That," he explained, "is a good Scots breakfast - bacon, egg, sausage, mushrooms and potato scone."

"Sausage?" Tucker stared at the plate.

Reed was already tucking in and used his fork to indicate the imitation meatloaf. "Square sausage - known as Lorne sausage. Try it - it's delicious. So is the potato scone," and he pointed at the odd pale triangle.

Tucker looked rather doubtfully at him, but as Reed was eating with obvious enjoyment he decided to try it, and before long he was too busy eating to talk.  
He looked up as Reed laughed.

"Perhaps next time I'll add some fruit pudding and fried dumpling." He teased.

Tucker didn't dare ask, not trusting the wicked twinkle in the grey eyes. Instead, he poured them more coffee and settled back in the chair, curling his hands around his mug and sniffing appreciatively. "Mmm - definitely gonna keep you if you look after me like this."

"It's your turn to cook tomorrow," he was warned.

Tucker grinned and changed the subject, "Any plans for today?"

"I thought we'd take a walk up the hill," Reed suggested.

"Sounds good." Tucker didn't really care as long as he was in Reed's company.

***

They did not speak as they walked. Both were fit but the first part of the climb was steep although the short heather and springy turf made it less of a struggle. Reed led the way, obviously at ease on the hill as he used many of the narrow sheep paths as he took them upward.

Tucker had been concentrating on the walk, not aware of how high they had climbed until Reed halted by a flat slab of stone and fished out a water bottle from the pack he was carrying.

"Look," he said quietly and placed a gentle hand on Tucker's shoulder to turn him around.

He gasped. The view was glorious with the hill sweeping down, the road part way down following its contour around the base and below that it dropped away again to the flat plain. In the near distance there were purple hills and behind them, the brooding mass of craggy mountains. He glanced at Reed, intrigued by the satisfaction colouring his expression - as if he was personally responsible. In some way he was, thought Tucker, he was responsible for adding it to Trip Tucker's memory. 

Without taking his gaze from the view he settled next to Reed, taking a drink from the water he was offered.

Eventually he glanced at his lover, marvelling at the utter contentment in his expression. "I guess this is a favourite spot?"

"I always stop here." He gestured. "Those are the Cairngorm Mountains - this is all part of the National Park. The Braes of Abernethy is the flat area and that hill is Carn na Faraidh." He reeled the names off, listing them and providing some of the history of the area while Tucker listened, part in fascination and part enthralled simply by the sound of Reed's voice.

They spent the afternoon ranging across the hillside, stopping often to admire the view or pick the wild blueberries, giggling like children as their fingers and mouths were stained purple by the juice. The weather was perfect and it was dusk before they returned to the cottage.

Later Tucker lay in Reed's arms and let out a long sigh that signalled his deep contentment. "Can't believe we waited so long for this."

"I'm glad we did," Reed returned. "If it had happened earlier," he hesitated, "I'm not sure it would have survived."

Unwelcome memories intruded and Tucker had to agree. So much in his life had changed, and changed fundamentally, until it hadn't been impossible to believe that his own parents might have betrayed him.

He tightened his grip on Reed, too aware of his own shortcomings in the way he had treated those around him. At the time he had believed he was justified in some way - as if his grief had given him license to mete out his own distinct brand of cruelty. He knew, too, that Reed had borne the brunt of it.

"How did you make it through all that?" He asked. And how did you put up with of my shit, he added silently.

There was a very long pause before Reed sighed and moved out of their embrace. For a moment he sat, his arms around his knees, and was so obviously gathering his composure that Tucker felt the first stirring of alarm.

Haltingly at first, Malcolm Reed spoke about Hayes, about how the antagonism and rivalry had developed into something that had provided them both with support and comfort. 

Tucker listened in silence, only daring to move once as he placed a comforting hand on his lover's knee when Reed's voice faltered and emotion threatened to overwhelm him. It was painfully obvious how much Reed needed to tell him this, the words tumbling from him and when he was done, Tucker did not attempt to console him with speech. Instead, he pulled the man into his arms and offered the comfort of touch, knowing instinctively that this was what was needed now.

***

Tucker woke early and spent some time watching Reed sleep before the man"s comment of the morning before came back to him. Grinning, he threw on some clothes and headed for the kitchen. By the time he negotiated the stairs balancing the loaded tray, Reed was sitting up and yawning.

With a certain amount of panache Tucker served the pancakes, each one stuffed with blueberries. Reed chuckled at his antics and the American experienced a surge of relief.

He was hesitant to break the mood but had to ask. "You okay?"

There was no pause. "Yes - I'm glad you know about Matt."

"Me, too", And he was. There was no jealousy, just relief that Reed had found someone to help him through when other friends - particularly Trip Tucker - had been lost in their own difficulties.

"What have you got planned for today?" Tucker asked.

"There's a good hike around the hill and back over the top. We could take some lunch?"

"Sounds good."

They set off mid morning, following the track around the base of the hill before starting to climb and as they walked they began to talk, taking themselves on a cathartic journey through the two long years that had passed. Tucker was glad enough to spill out some of the memories that were haunting him but was even more pleased when he realised that Reed was doing the same. There was an openness in the younger man and a willingness to explore emotion and motivation that Tucker had never known in him before. It awed him and it scared him and he said as much to Reed, terrified that he would let the man down again.

Reed laughed and gripped the hand he was holding. "Don't worry, love, I won't let you."

Tucker had the good sense not to argue.

In the afternoon when they were once more perched on Reed's rock, Tucker dropped his bombshell, the decision that he had been moving towards over the past few weeks. His voice quiet and small, he confided. "Malcolm, I don't think I can go back out there." He did not need to elaborate. A long pause followed his revelation and he waited, partly in trepidation at Reed's possible response, but mostly with relief that he had made the confession.

Eventually Reed sighed and brought Tucker's hand to his lips, kissing it gently. "Then we won't."

The enormity of what he was saying prompted his lover to speak. "Malcolm, I didn't mean for you to give up your career-"

He was silenced effectively as Reed turned and kissed him, taking his time and doing a thorough job of it. Tucker looked at him wordlessly when he was released, as if seeing him for the first time. A few days in the open air had begun to tan his skin and he looked healthier than he had for a long time. Best of all, there was a smile on his lips and a light in his eyes that Tucker had missed. He looked at peace and so he said nothing more, leaving it to Reed to break the silence.

"I'm not giving up my career, Trip, just taking it in a different direction. There are any number of research projects I want to work on and the Starfleet Weapons Lab has been contacting me monthly to see if I'd take a post with them." He sobered. "With the Romulans out there, I think our experience and knowledge would be put to better use developing the weapons, defences and engines."

"You think there's gonna be a war?" It was a sobering thought and one, he owned, that he had been avoiding.

"Of some description," Reed admitted. "So far, the Romulans have shown that they're wily and prefer to undermine rather than confront us directly. I do wonder if they had anything to do with Terra Prime."

Tucker grunted. "That would make a certain amount of sense - if I wasn't so damned sure that human beings could cook that madness up all on their own." There was a bitterness in his voice that he knew the other man would be unable to miss.

"Your parents thought they were helping," Reed said quietly.

"Yeah, I know. It all just gave me a lousy few days." He stared out at the view but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. "T'Pol knows about you and me."

Reed took it rather better than he expected. "I thought she might," he said, equably. "Especially when you told me about the bond. Are you stuck with that?"

"I guess. She's not exactly the easiest person to talk to about stuff like that." He glanced sideways at his lover's profile, "but I'll go see her when we get back."

"Good idea," Reed's response was mild, and then he got to his feet, reaching out to haul Tucker upright. "Let's get back."

"It's early yet," Tucker protested.

Reed's grin was wicked, obviously shedding any further thought of serious discussion. "I know, but I want to take you back to the cottage, drag you upstairs to bed and give T'Pol something *really* interesting to think about."

"Malcolm!" He pretended outrage, but let himself be dragged down the hillside, laughing at his lover while being decidedly turned on by the graphic nature of Reed's description of what he intended doing. 

***

Two days later they were standing outside the cottage, the bags loaded into the car. Both were loath to leave, so much detritus had been cleared away here, their long talks and love-making helping to ease fears and hurts that had been part of their lives for a long time. Tucker was glad his decision not to return to *Enterprise* had been made, and glad that Reed seemed happy to stay on Earth, too. He took a deep breath and traded a smile with his lover.

Reed's smile faded and his expression became serious. He reached out and took Tucker's hand. "Will you marry me?" he asked simply.

Tucker thought his grin could probably be seen from Jupiter Station and his words were almost superfluous. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good." A sharp, staccato nod. "Now are you ready to face the world?"

"Hell, darling, with you beside me - I can face anything."

Reed chuckled. "Let's start with your parents and Captain Archer."

"I guess." He looked wistfully at the cottage. "Can we come back here?"

"As often as possible," Reed confirmed. 

"It feels like home," Tucker commented softly.

Reed squeezed the hand he was holding. "Wherever we are - if we're together then that's home."

"Why, Mr. Reed, I never knew you could be so sappy." He dodged the mock blow and they were both laughing as they settled themselves in the vehicle.

They drove away without looking back.

 

Fin


End file.
